Home Beyond The Clouds
by GamergirlGG
Summary: This is my first fanfiction, I am a big fan of the elder scrolls series, and just thought this up while I started a new game. The story is based around a character I created in game, and yes the dialog may be different but I just hope someone likes it. Oh and if you don't like it, please don't read it. Rated T, i might change it, O/C and its about an Imperials journey home.
1. Chapter 1

Hello this is my first fanfic, so please don't judge to harshly, i'm writing this story based on a character iv made in game (yes using cheats, lots of 'em). And you may notice the Dialog is different from the game. I am aware and I chose it to be so. And I will make up a few events unseen in the game so again, please do not criticize too badly. I'm 15 so a lot of what I write might not be exactly what older audiences wish to read, but if you don't like it, don't read it.

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The sound of horses beating their hooves against dirt and stones was so familiar. For a brief moment Conan believed he was home. Once against wandering the streets of the Imperial City, laughing with his friends and avoiding the harsh crowds. But the moment was lost the minute he opened his eyes. The sun was rough and burned at his retinas, trying to shield his eyes he with his hands he found them bound together by a tight leather thong digging into his wrists.

"Finally awake are you?" Said a voice, it took a few moments for Conan to register the voice was in front of him. He squinted against the sun's rays to recognize a man clad in an unusual set of armour, hands equally bound. "A little young to be crossing the border aren't you?" he asked.

Conan had no idea what he was talking about, crossing what border? He had been with relatives in Bruma after the attack on the Imperial City had forced the guards to bring him there. Then the attack on Bruma… All he had – all he could do was run into the snowy mountains and... "But I wasn't-"

"It matters not now, friend we all share the same fate now." He said. "But if you must know you were caught around the border, hardly conscious in the ambush meant for us, same as that thief over there." He indicated to the man next to him. Conan followed; this man was not wearing the same clad as the other, he was in a filthy ragged thread-bare outfit likely born from useless scraps. A glance down and Conan was shocked to see he was wearing a similar garb.

"Damn Stormcloaks, if not for you I'd be halfway to Hammerfell by now." The second man fumed.

"Relax; we're all brothers and sisters in binds now, horse thief." The first said. "And by the way," He said looking back to Conan, "I am Ralof. And you are?"

It took Conan a few moments to answer before mumbling, "Conan".

"And you? He said turning back to his side. The man flashed him a glare before looking away and answering.

"Lokir." He said through gritted teeth.

"Our fate it sealed, there is no reason for grudges." Ralof said sadly. Conan's heart skipped a beat at that, where was he anyway?

"No reason for grudges? Before you Stormcloaks showed up, the Empire was nice and lazy, now they're so tight packed their hunting thieves and arresting children. How old are you anyway kid?" Lokir asked Conan. The question caused Ralof to redirect his attention back to Conan as well.

Conan shrunk into himself before answering quietly: "Eleven. I think".

"A true threat to national security this one!" Lokir stamped his foot on the wagon floor. Conan might have laughed if not for the direness of the situation.

"Shut up back there!" The soldier steering the wagon commanded.

"And this guy? What's his problem? Lokir asked ignoring the guard. Conan followed his gaze. To the man sitting directly next to Conan. He was large, wearing a similarly designed outfit to Ralofs, but with more luxury added. He was bound as the rest of the prisoners, but what drew Conans attention the most was the gag he was wearing. Why would it matter what he said?

"Watch your tongue! You are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" Ralof snapped.

"Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion, if they've captured you… oh gods where are they taking us?" Everything but fear now taken from Lokir. The way he said it almost instructed Conan to look ahead of the wagon past the soldier steering. Another group of people dressed in armor similar to Ralofs were crowded in a wagon ahead. But Conan looked past that, where a great wooden gate was now being pulled open to allow the soldiers entry. Panic struck like lightning as he tried to control his heavy breathing.

"Relax my friends, Sovengarde awaits. Best not to keep the gods waiting for us." Ralof said, Conan couldn't understand how he could be so calm in the face of death. Glancing at the one they had named Ulfric, he wore the same mask of calm. _How?_ Conan could only ask himself. Lokir was shaking and panting trying to make his last rights to the gods.

"What village are you from?" Ralof asked Lokir.

"What do you care?" Lokir hardly managed to choke out.

"A man's last thoughts should be of his home."

"Rorikstead, I'm from Rorikstead." He answered in another choke.

"And you, friend?" Ralof asked Conan.

Closing his eyes to keep from crying, Conan fought to keep his voice steady "The Imperial City." He mumbled, it was all he could manage.

"A long ways from home; But fear not, your loved ones will find you in Sovengarde, no matter who gets there first." Ralof spoke confidently. The words brought no comfort to Conan, he didn't want to die.

They entered the small town where every citizen stopped to murmur to each other as the wagon past. Parents told children to go inside, and others came out to watch. "Look at that" Ralof barked, "General Tulius himself, even the Thalmor show themselves here".

Conan followed everyone's gaze and spotted a white-haired Imperial clad in heavy elegant armour, a mark of leadership. Speaking to someone in radiant gold armour. He couldn't see the faces, but knew they were the ones Ralof spoke so poorly of.

"Are they really going to kill all of us?" Conan said in a hushed shaky voice.

"Here in Skyrim, those who can take care of themselves are treated as any other adult would be. And finding you illegally crossing the border, helps you not at all." Ralof said sadly. "Damn the empire. Its funny, growing up Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe. But now…" He trailed off.

Lokir was still mumbling his prays when the wagon came to a stop. "Oh gods why are we stopping!?" He cried.

"Why do you think?" Ralof said calmly "end of the line."


	2. Chapter 2

Conan was in an instant state of shock even before Ralofs words left the echoes of his ears. He couldn't die, not now, he didn't know where his family was or if they were ok, if they even escaped the city… he shook his head trying not to trade one dire thought for another. He only lifted his head and searched the area, the other cart was already settled in and the prisoners being herded off before the one Conan was on even came to a stop. But the imperials seemed determined to catch up demanding the prisoners stand immediately after the cart came to a lurching stop.

"No we're not with them! We're not Stormcloaks! Tell them!" Lokir yelled practically stumbling off the cart; he looked like he was going to say more but a soldier smashed him in the back of the head with the butt of his sword only causing him to stagger more. Conan could only muster a shred of pity for the criminal, being the same situation just too stunned to voice it.

Ulfric jumped of immediately, despite his cooperation, the soldier still hit him as well. Ulfric just moved forward unaffected. Conan jumped next, landing on ice, and hardly arresting a face plant before catching himself and moving forward, he kept his head low expecting to be butted with the sword, but nothing came. He took his place behind Lokir and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Go with pride friend, it only lasts a second." Ralof whispered reassuringly to Conan. Conan realized his face must have betrayed the emotion he was trying to hide. He could only a spare a glance at Ralof before he say the soldier approaching from behind the bend they had rode through.

"Lokir from Rorikstead." Said a soldier lifting a scroll, Conan recognized the soldier as the one who had rode behind the wagon they had been in.

"No! Please I'm not one of them!" Lokir begged.

"Too the block, next" Said the other soldier. Conan didn't recognise the second one.

"Hell no!" Lokir yelled and took off running, the two soldiers in front made no move to catch him.

"Archers!" The second soldier commanded. Conan almost say it in slow motion, three soldiers from a two across from the prisoners, lifted their bows.

"You won't catch me!" Lokir screamed, almost making the bend, before he was struck with three arrows in the back, ironically blowing him across the bend and, Conan was thankful, out of site. The site was still heart stopping though. Someone he had been speaking to was gone- dead, just like that.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." The familiar soldier called. Ulfric stepped forward.

"To the block, next" The second commanded. He kept his head high and followed without hesitation. _How could he be so calm?_ Conan questioned.

"Ralof of Riverwood". Ralof stepped forward.

"To the Block. Next" He too held his head high and accepted his fate. Conan drew in a breath and stepped forward. The familiar soldier looked Conan up and down, flashed an emotion Conan swore was guilt, and checked his list.

"What's your name?" The caller asked.

Conan swallowed, "Conan Aurik… of The Imperial City." He answered slowly.

Both soldiers held a brief look of surprise, quickly wiped off their faces. "He's not on the list," The caller said searching the scroll he held "What should we do?" Conan felt a spark of hope on previously dead embers."

"He goes to the block." The second called. And there the spark went.

"But he's just a kid." The caller reasoned.

"We know the Stormcloaks are not above using children for their own purposes, let him live and he may be a threat later." The second ordered.

"Very well," The caller looked a Conan "sorry kid, we'll try to get your remains back to the Cyrodill." And just like that, Conan was turned to the block. He tried to hold his head high like Ralof and Ulfric, but couldn't raise his shoulders past a slump, and gave up.

The prisoners were all ushered into a group, and heavily watched, anyone who sent even a whisper to a companion was silenced with the flat of a blade to the back of the head. They were left like that for what Conan could only guess was an hour. Conan decided he didn't hate the caller, but the second soldier had all but sentenced him to death for something he _might_ be guilty of, and was innocent. He didn't like that one. Conan was constantly glancing around at the soldiers and Stormcloaks, he met Ralofs' glance, and the man nodded and gave him a reassuring look. He had even caught the callers glance once, who could only give him an apologetic look. But what only half surprised him once was seeing Ralof and the caller scowling at each other. He almost asked if they knew each other, but he shook the thought away for fear of getting hit, and because he could hear the sound of hooves beating gravel. Conan only closed his eyes and looked down as he heard the sound of commands being shouted, and the sounded of the hooves getting closer, coming to a stop, and leather boots hitting the gravel as they dismounted.

Through the sound of dozens of leathered feet dragging across the ground, Conan distinguished one that seemed to move with purpose walking directly past him and stopping strides later. "Ulfric Stormcloak!" He shouted, Causing Conan to snap back from his trance to stare at the soldier Commander Gear, Ralof had identified as General Tulius, "You claim to stand for the people? For the freedom to worship Talos, you claim to save your country? Yet you tear it apart, inciting a rebellion usurping the High Kings throne, beginning a Civil war, you've got countless innocent lives on your hands, and today retribution for all your crimes will be delivered." General Tulius finished, Conan could hardly even register what he was hearing, so these were the ones responsible for the worship of Talos being so strictly enforced. When Conan was younger he remembered there always being a small statue of Talos over the fire pit, and his father always calling him and his siblings to listen to stories of Talos, and other great heroes. He remembered the statue being taken down when the people began to publically declare worshipping Talos, and the Thalmor beginning to search houses and publically naming anyone caught with the small statues. There had been public shamming, beatings, and according to his father, executions for all those caught. Conan had heard there had been some people rebelling to the north, and his cursing one day at how they would get them all killed after a large amount of soldiers had left the city for some important reason. That had only been a few months ago, but now it felt like a lifetime ago. Though he never heard the name, Conan knew Ulfric Stormcloak was the one his father had been so enraged about, and if that were true… everyone prisoner here, every _Stormcloak_ was Ulfric followers, and the ones who were responsible for the rebellion and instigating the attacks in Cyrodill, even if it was inadvertently. At that thought, Conan couldn't even look at Ralof; he only glanced at General Tulius and Ulfric Storm Cloak - still wearing same look of defiance on Ulfric features.


	3. Chapter 3

I know this chapter might be a little confusing or annoying sorry for that. Iv added alot of change to the story from the original as well for this I hope you like it anyway please read and review and follow if you want to.

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"Halik, of Riften!" Shouted The Caller. One of the Stormcloaks stepped forward and the priestess began speaking last rights.

"And by the eight, you shall-"

"Oh just shut up, and for the love of Talos get this over with." Halik cut off. Conan didn't know what the Stormcloak wasn't trying to plead his innocence. He was going to die, and he asked them to hurry? Why? He wondered, watching the man stop in front of the head block.

"Get down!" The caller ordered pushing him to his knees.

Conan watched the headsman raise his axe- and immediately closed his eyes and turned his head. He might not have seen it, but the sound he knew, he couldn't erase, and would probably never leave his thoughts.

Once he got the courage to open his eyes, Conan saw the headless body carelessly kicked to the side. "You Imperial Bastards!" Shouted one of the Stormcloaks in the crowd

The soldiers continued uninterrupted. "Jiav of Windhelm!" Another Stormcloaks stepped forward, and stopped at the head block. The priest began last rights.

"Shut up!" The Stormcloak shouted, and the Caller shoved her to the ground against the block. Conan turned his head. Expecting to hear the same crunch, of bone and flesh.

Something sounding more like heavy wind hitting a glass window roared through the sky, causing Conan and everyone else to jump. It even halted the headman's with his axe still in the air.

Conan saw the confusion ended when General Tulius, who had been silent this whole time shot a questioning look at the caller, "Just the wind through the mountains, not uncommon. Sir" The caller replied.

"Very well, carry on." He nodded. Conan hardly remember to close his eyes, and caught the sight of the axe descend, and the Stormcloaks head loosen and roll into the basket. If there was anything in Conan's stomach he would have hefted it up. The headsman kicked the headless body aside with the other. Conan looked back at the crowd, reluctantly. And saw a mixture of pain and hate plastered on the faces of all the Stormcloaks. Looking at the crowd of villagers who stood outside buildings and came the maximum distance they could to see the Stormcloaks put down. The look on their faces one that said they believed justice was being served; there was even a smirk on a few lips.

His thoughts were interrupted by another sound of, what the caller believed, was wind through the mountains, only louder. It actually felt like the ground had vibrated beneath Conan's feet, and glancing to every part of the crowd, he could see the different looks of emotion they had all worn, also replaced by confusion. Stormcloak, Imperial and Villagers alike. Looking back at General Tulius and the Caller, who looked about to speak, but the General interrupted.

"Just hurry this up." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." The Caller answered. "Conan Aurik, of The Imperial City."

And just like that, Conan's heart leaped to his throat, to match the feeling in his chest turning hollow. But somehow his feet managed to obey, with utter reluctance. The Priestess must have given up on trying to say last rights with the first two prisoners, because she remained as silent as Conan when he reached the head block. Looking down, he could see thick smears of crimson blood along the stone. And gagged when he saw the two blank expressions left on the faces of the two before him, after their heads rolled into the basket

"Hurry this up!" The Callers shouted and kicked the back of Conan knees, turning his head to avoid looking in the basket, and instead getting a clear view just past the tower they stood in the shadow of, and the mountains and fair sky beyond, despite what Conan was going through, he could only marvel at how the sun still shone and clouds still moved. Conan was clipped on the ear by the stone as he fell to the ground, stars exploded in his vision dazing him temporarily. In spite of his condition, Conan was aware of yet another loud roar of wind crack through the mountains, yet this one lingered, and seemed far louder. Was that just him? A small shine in his peripheral vision, Conan could have mistaken for another star, but instead knew it was the Axe being hefted into the air.

Conan looked quickly back to the sky and the mountains, bracing himself. Only to see the sun blocked out for a brief moment by an enormous shape. His first thought, a bird, but his senses told him that couldn't have possibly been it. Too big, Too fast, and the shape was just too different. He didn't know if anyone else saw it, but he was shocked enough to squirm and shout as the axe was heft completely, and the headsman braced for the ending blow.

"There! Behind you! There's something there!" He pleaded.

"Uhuh." The Caller mocked.

"What in oblivion…" That was General Tulius, Conan realized. Screams from every crowd rose up.

"Archers, what do you see?" The Caller said realizing the situation was real.

The headsman hesitated for a moment, and at last hefted the great axe down-

The entire sky darkened in an instant.

_FUSROHDA_

Conan heard the word spoken, and for an instant it sounded familiar. And then he was forced even harder to the ground by a great wind and at last rolled to his side in an awkward position. The headsman and his huge axe, had both –literally, been blown away out of Conan's eyes, before he had forced them shut due to the wind.

For a very brief moment after that, the world was silent, calm, and serene. All interrupted by a thunderous crash that could have been heard miles away. And without thinking, Conan slammed his eyes open. He was lying face down on the ground, thinking at first he had gone blind, but swiftly realizing his awkward position. And slowly rose to his knees. Everything hurt, head to feet. But he somehow managed to focus his sight to the scene before him. People had been blown away, literally. Some still recovering but none on their feet, Conan realized he had taken the least of the damage, due to already being on the ground.

The ground. He noticed everything was dark, like an enormous shadow, not just the shadow of the tower they had been standing in, but the entire village. But what.. Doing his best to ignore the pain, Conan slowly, cautiously, rose to his feet following the darkness to whatever, he now realized he blocked out the sun. The sound of a deep rumble caused Conan to instantly ignore all other sense and turn around. If could think of the most terrifying experience in is life before that point, it couldn't hold a candle to what he felt now, too terrified to even scream.

The Ebony wings stretched the landscape of the entire village, if not slightly beyond. The dark scales, seemed to refuse the light that shone behind them. The massive claws dug into the stone of the tower like butter. The smallest tooth, Conan could see, was larger than he was. But all that could almost be forgotten, the second he looked into the deep ebony pupils framed by a deep crimson, Conan knew even a giant would feel, and actually be belittled

He didn't know where the word came from, maybe his subconscious of all the stories his father had told Conan and his sister since he could remember. But the first word that came to Conan's mind: _Dragon_

Standing Face to face with this creature, Conan didn't even see the people rising to their feet. His thoughts only broken by an arrow, shot at the great beasts shoulder, deflect of and fall to the ground.

_DOVAHKIIN FUSRODAH_

And the whole world went to hell.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey Sorry for the long wait everyone, thanks for being patient and im going to be working on this a lot more now now that i have time, so please read and review, i open to feedback and ideas and if you would like, please follow and ill keep you updated. Hope you enjoy it! (dragon tongue translations that the bottom.)

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor pretend to own any of Bethesda studios hard work (save the games) No copyright intended.

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The world around Conan seemed to slowly accept his presence as inaudible sound reached his ears, and blurred vision leaked through his eye lids. It took a few moments to realize he was lying on the ground. A great weight had him pinned to the earth, trying to focus on the object Conan felt an intense burning in his head, as if he'd been struck in the back of the head. Upon such realization Conan began to panic, clawing at the dirt with his still bound-together hands, and was rewarded by only shifting the object forward and planting Conan's face into the packed dirt. Doing his best to keep breathing, with his chest compressed on the ground,

Conan lay there for divines knows how long until he heard the rough sound of worn leather on dirt come his way. A spark of hope flicked in Conan.

"You still alive, lad?" It was Ralof. Conan tried to nod, but with the object on his head, he couldn't even manage that, he just slapped the ground with his wrists as best he could. And a few moments later, instant relief came as the weight on Conan was removed. "Can you stand?" Ralof asked.

"I- I think so." Conan replied with his first available breath. Slowly gaining purchase on his knees. The entire Sky went dark for a moment.

A sound like thunder cracked the ground nearby.

"By the Talos!" Ralof shouted, grabbing Conan by the arm and hauling him to his feet. The sound of steel clashing, people shouting and screaming, and above all, the sound of wind cracking as something solid whipped through it.

Another crack of thunder…_Dragon... No... It cannot be. _Conan gasped, memories striking him like the thunderous cracks, he spun around to the object that had imprisoned him, a wooden post, A support beam, snapped like a piece of kindling. Clearly from the building that had stood dozens of feet from Conan and the others. _By the eight._ Conan was so busy trying to understand everything, he hardly even realized Ralof had begun to drag him away from the destroyed building- now a pile of lumber.

"We have to get out of here!" He pointed ahead to a stone barrack still standing a few dozen feet across from them, "To that tower! Move it!" Conan had to force his legs to obey, eventually able to support himself while on a full sprint so Ralof let go of his arm "Keep on at it lad, almost there!"

_YolToorShul… Mortals_

Yet another enormous Crack struck the earth. This one followed by an unbearable wave of heat, where Conan and Ralof had been only moments before. Conan half turned nearly stumbling he couldn't believe it "What?!" He asked.

"What? Don't slow down!" Ralof shouted back.

"It said something! It spoke!" Conan Shouted back.

Ralof hardly stopped at a rough wooden door that he didn't hesitate to begin slamming his fist against. "It's Ralof! Open the door!" hardly a moment later the door opened just enough for the two to slip through. "You've lost too much blood if you think that _thing_ spoke, lad." Ralof spat.

Only that brought Conan's attention to himself, his head still pounding, he ran a hand along the back of his head, where the pain was rooted and pulled it away to find his entire hand coated in blood. Speechless, Conan scanned that rest of his body, Scrapes, cuts and already a few bruise mapped his entire body. If not for what he'd just seen, the whole site would have sent Conan into shock.

"Worry about injuries later." Came an unfamiliar voice. Conan turned his head to the voice, and was his heart skipped a beat in shock. Ulfric Stormcloak, only a few feet away. Staring directly at him. Trying his best to hide his shock, Conan just nodded.

Afraid to make eye contact, Conan scanned the small room, there were six people in total, Conan excluded. Two clearly injured, a slash to the side of the face, starting at the eye. It made Conan wince. The other was darted with arrows, arms legs and even two in the torso. _A dragon attacks, and they still fight each other? Eight Divine._ Two other men were scrambling up the spiral stairs of the tower, searching for an alternate exit Conan assumed. Not that there was likely to be one at the top of a tower, save the windows.

Before he knew it, Ralof was dragging Conan by his upper arm up the tower stairs "We have to keep moving lad! The imperials might know we're here! And I don't know how long this tower could hold against a dragon!"

"How are we supposed to get out?!" Conan called. But his question was answered as they reach the peak of the stairway. One of the Stormcloaks was swinging a war hammer against the corner of a window, trying to widen the frame as an escape. Though to little avail, the stone held firm and each swing only caused a few chips to fly.

"Think you can squeeze through there?" Ralof asked "You should be small enough."

Conan knew he could, he had squeezed through smaller fence holes while playing hide-and-seek or tag with his friends in the city. Still he looked uncertainly at Ralof.

"Don't worry lad, there's a house only a few feet down, you should land safely."

"From there you can jump to a small snow bank between the house and the tower, should keep you from breaking anything." Added the man with the hammer "From there you can find safer cover."

"But you guys?" Conan asked, he wanted more than anything to get out of the tower, and just run. Divines there was a dragon out there! But still Conan felt reluctant to leave them behind, even if they were rebels.

Ralof dragged Conan to the window, "Don't worry about us, there's nothing you can do but die if you stay here, we'll get out soon enough."

There was nothing he could do, that was defiantly true Conan realize. He climbed to the window and faced the outside; he could only stand side-ways through the narrow makeshift-passage about a head of space between him and the top of the window. Carefully he edged his way to the end and as promised there was a straw built roof down below. But what they called a few feet had to be roughly twenty-five thirty feet straight down. Conan tried to look back, but his head couldn't turn past the stone. "It's too high!" He called back.

"Just Jump, we don't have time!" Someone replied. Slowly Conan gathered his courage, bent his knees as much as he could. And just before he was about to jump, a pair of hands shoved his side and forced him through the air. The only sound Conan heard was his own yelp when he landed on one of the roofs beams, still-bound hands first; the rest of his weight broke over them. In the few moments it took Conan to get over his Surprise, he hadn't even noticed the, light above him was dimming. Until it was the area around him was almost black.

Swiftly Conan turned over, just in time to see the enormous creature make its second land on the small village, eyes set on the tower Conan had just dove from. It landed unmercifully on the homes and towers behind the one Conan was on. Its gigantic front claw perched- or rather just crushed the wall directly beside the tower- and Conan.

Conan didn't even have time to think, all he could was push himself back with his legs, until his back hit the chimney. Breath heavy from fear, Conan could hear his heart beating audibly in his ears, just as easily as he could feel it slamming against his rib cage. He slammed his eyes shut and prayed to the eight for the leviathan to leave. But still only the cracks of stone and wood filled the air, followed by heavy breathing Conan first mistook for his own. But it got louder… closer.

Reluctantly, Conan peaked his eyes open, looked up. Where the sky should have been, all he saw was a black mass over his head, and realized it was the Dragons head. Light stung at Conan's eyes, and he realized the light above the creature was… bending away from it. It repelled light. The Dragons head tilted, and Conan caught sight of its Crimson eye. And the Crimson eye caught sight of Conan.

Time seemed to stop. For Conan, he thought he had been terrified when he woke up on the wagon, and when he was about to be executed, when he first saw the dragon, every event seemed to duplicate his fear. But now it didn't seem really. Or maybe it was just too real. The only thing Conan could see in the deep crimson eyes was rage and hate. Everything to this point had given him the instinct to run, but now he was petrified. He couldn't run –he wouldn't run, because he couldn't escape, he knew it, this monster knew it. _I'm dead._ Conan realized I'm_ already dead._

The jaw of the beast opened slightly, and Conan believed the he was going to be eaten. But instead the dragon seemed to speak in a slow, snake like accent.

_Niid Aaz Fah Faal Sahlo… Hin Kos Sahlo…Nust Kos Sahlo… Joor_

And with speed that seemed impossible for its size, the dragon turned its head, ignoring Conan and in one fluent motion, leaned forward and flew directly through the tower, crushing it in an instant. Not that Conan saw much, all he remembered was the wind forcing him through the roof, before the building collapsed and he went through the roof. The last thing he heard was the dragons icy voice echoing

_Dahmaan Daar Sul Joor_

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_Niid Aaz Fah Faal Sahlo… Hin Kos Sahlo…Nust Kos Sahlo… Joor: _

_No Mercy for the weak... You are weak... They are week... Mortal_

___Dahmaan Daar Sul Joor:_

___Remember this Day Mortal_

_Source:elderscrolls wiki_


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